


Safe Haven

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nevactacus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: This is the beginning of the follow-up to By Hook or Crook, but I've decided to post some of the scenes instead of waiting until I have time to finish the whole long piece. This takes place the first night/morning after Nevada shows up at Caractacus's house, and whether he knows how to talk about it or not, Nevada is reeling and heartbroken.TW: MENTION OF SUICIDE
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: Nevactacus





	Safe Haven

_“Don’t do this. We can both walk out of here.”_

_“No,_ Tío _, it’s too late.”_

 _“Marcus, I promise you killing me won’t make you feel better. You won,_ mijo _. You won, look around. Now it’s just you and me. We’re_ familia _, Marcus, for better or worse._ Lo siento. Lo siento _, I’m sorry.”_

_“It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You were supposed to kill me, Vada.”_

_“I won’t do that. I could never do that, Marcus,_ te amo _. Please, let’s—No, Marcus—”_

 _“Sorry,_ Tío _.”_

_“Don’t—”_

Nevada’s eyes snapped opened and he rolled, throwing out an arm. His heart was slamming in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears, and his arm had landed on Caractacus’s face before he remembered where he was.

“Ow,” Caractacus said sleepily, reaching for the offending limb, but Nevada had already pulled away, putting space between their bodies as he tried to get control of his breathing.

“ _Mierda_ ,” he muttered, swiping at his own sweaty face. “Sorry.”

Caractacus shifted toward him automatically; the impulse to comfort was part of the man’s marrow. “You’re alright,” he said, reaching out and settling a hand over Nevada’s racing heart.

 _You’re alright._ He didn’t ask what was wrong, or complain about being accidentally hit in the face; he simply assured Nevada that he was safe, and Nevada, who’d never had anyone do that for him, felt the words settle into his chest like a warm weight. He let out a slow breath. He closed his eyes, but that was no good—the image of Marcus, gun to his own head, face going stony with determination…

Nevada stared up at the ceiling instead, letting himself absorb some of the comfort of Caractacus’s presence. Caractacus’s fingers were rubbing lightly at his chest, and he’d pressed himself close to Nevada’s side. Caractacus was wearing ridiculous cotton pajamas—blue with red polka dots, was the man incapable of choosing a single color? It didn’t have to be black, but anything less offensive to the eyes?

Nevada was in a pair of silk underwear and a cotton tank top, because he hadn’t brought a change of clothes. He supposed it was lucky he’d actually been wearing underwear, although he couldn’t say he’d made a conscious decision. Part of him had surely been hoping that Caractacus would be happy to see him, but he’d known he had no right to expect any hospitality.

Since showing up the previous afternoon, the kiss on the sidewalk was the most intimacy he and Caractacus had shared, and crawling into bed in the nude would likely have made things awkward. There hadn’t even been a kiss at bedtime. Nevada had considered making a move—he’d missed Caractacus in more ways than one, and he knew that the other man almost certainly wouldn’t refuse an advance—but he’d resisted.

Caractacus had invited him into his home, with his children. He’d let him sit at their dinner table—Jemima did most of the talking, which was good because Nevada didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to say, and Jeremy seemed to be intent on pretending he didn’t exist.

Caractacus had welcomed Nevada into his bed, too, since there wasn’t a spare available. But Nevada didn’t want Caractacus to feel like he owed Nevada anything.

Nevada wasn’t good at letting down his guard. He wanted to open up to Caractacus, but he didn’t know how. The very idea was terrifying. Even now, he couldn’t be certain he wasn’t putting the other man in danger just by being near him. Nevada had made a lot of enemies in his life, and if those enemies followed him? If he brought danger back into Caractacus’s life when he’d just gotten himself and his children away from that?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Nevada stretched, yawning. “Talk?” he asked, scratching at his stomach so that his tank rode up a little. “Nah, I just came here to get my dick sucked, you know.”

Caractacus smiled indulgently. “Yeah, I know,” he answered. He slid his hand from Nevada’s chest to cover his hand. Twining his fingers through Nevada’s, he drew the other man’s hand up and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. “I’ll do it if it’ll help you relax and go back to sleep, but I can’t have sex. I have to go to work in a few hours.”

“Afraid you won’t be able to walk right?” Nevada asked with a smirk.

Caractacus chuckled quietly, sleepily. He was still holding Nevada’s hand, was still pressed close. His cotton pajamas were soft and warm against Nevada’s bare arm. “Don’t want to take any chances,” he joked. “I’ve only had the job for a couple of weeks, I’d hate to have to answer any awkward questions.”

“You don’t have to work in that place,” Nevada said.

“It’s not bad,” Caractacus replied, still smiling. “Waiting tables in a nice diner? A vast improvement over my last few jobs.” He paused, his eyes twinkling, and added, “Present former employer excluded.”

Nevada forced a smile even though he knew it wouldn’t fool the other man. “I have money,” he said. “You can stay home and do… _whatever_ it is you do. Build stuff. I will…you know.” He shifted uncomfortably beneath Caractacus’s steady gaze. “Pay for that.”

Caractacus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Nevada’s mouth. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I really don’t mind it. I like people, making them smile.” He kissed Nevada’s shoulder. “I make good tips.” He released Nevada’s hand and instead settled a palm onto Nevada’s stomach, kissing his chest. “Speaking of making people smile,” he said, sliding his hand lower until his fingers brushed the silk of Nevada’s underwear.

“You don’t have to do that,” Nevada said, barely audible.

Caractacus shifted downward a bit so he could kiss Nevada’s belly, and he felt the other man’s skin tighten against his lips. “You know I don’t mind,” he murmured. His hand grazed Nevada’s crotch.

Nevada reached down and grabbed his wrist. “Stop,” he said, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. Caractacus looked up at him and Nevada swallowed, grimacing. “You don’t—I mean it, you don’t have to do that, that’s not what I meant.”

“What are—”

“Get off,” Nevada said, pushing Caractacus away.

“Okay,” Caractacus answered. He put some distance between them and studied Nevada’s face, but Nevada couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I apologize.”

“Don’t.”

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’re upset with me, you can say so.”

“I wasn’t saying I would…pay you for _that_.” Nevada scrubbed both hands over his face. “Christ, I should leave.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“I never should’ve come here.”

“Please don’t leave, stay here and let’s talk about it.”

Nevada turned his head to look at the other man. “You’re too nice for me.”

“Maybe you need someone nice for a change.”

“That’s not—I’m talking about what _you_ need, and that’s not me.”

Caractacus sighed. He reached out a hand and hesitated, his palm hovering above Nevada’s chest. “May I touch you?” he asked.

“The house is yours, _Chiflado_. I thought I would probably be dead, but me coming here wasn’t about changing my mind, you owe me _nothing_. I owe—” He cut himself off and looked at Caractacus’s hand. He swallowed, gathering his courage, and lifted his own hand, wrapping his fingers around Caractacus’s. “I’ve done a lot of things I can’t take back,” he said, looking at their hands to avoid Caractacus’s kind and patient gaze. “But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“I don’t need to be on your list of regrets, Nevada. Everything that happened between the two of us was consensual.”

Nevada shook his head on the pillow and forced his eyes to meet the other man’s.

“I mean, yes, I was worried the first time you came to the apartment, and you told me to get on my knees. In that moment I didn’t feel like there was any choice. But you didn’t do anything. And when you told me to go to your house, that was for show, for the other men. You didn’t expect anything to happen. Even after I offered. I know, because you weren’t aroused until I…actually started to touch you. Everything we did was consensual.”

“You were desperate and I took advantage. And—”

“Stop,” Caractacus said quietly, squeezing Nevada’s hand. “You’re here in my bed because I invited you in. There are a lot of traumas you need to face and work through, but I promise you, you don’t need to worry about me. Was the dream about the boy?”

“Robbie,” Nevada muttered, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “His name was Robbie. And no.”

“Marcus?”

Nevada felt the stab of pain and closed his eyes. “He wanted me to kill him, you know? He killed the men who killed Robbie. He killed Angelo to hurt me. I was supposed to kill him in the end. He didn’t want to live with what he did. I was supposed to live with it. See, _Chiflado_?”

“Yes, I see,” Caractacus answered softly, feeling Nevada’s pain—but also Marcus’s, and all of the innocent victims’.

“But I couldn’t kill him. I held that baby, get me? I loved that goddamned—” His voice cracked and he turned his face away as the tears blurred his vision. “He and Jonny were the closest thing I ever had to sons. I would’ve burned the world to the ground for them. They should’ve been in this house. I should’ve gotten them out while there was a chance. I was selfish. I couldn’t even put him out of his misery like he wanted, he had to do that himself, too.”

“Nevada, I’m sorry.”

“He blew his fucking head off in front of me,” Nevada said, and the raw pain in his voice sent tears spilling onto Caractacus’s cheeks. “I couldn’t stop him. I—couldn’t—”

Caractacus pulled on Nevada’s hand and Nevada rolled toward him, burying his face against Caractacus’s shoulder to hide his tears. Caractacus held him, running his fingers through the other man’s greasy hair.

“He threatened to kill your kids,” Nevada mumbled into Caractacus’s pajamas. “I know you must hate him, but—”

“No, honey, I don’t hate him,” Caractacus interrupted quietly. “He was a young man in a lot of pain. And he was your family. You can talk to me about your feelings.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“I know. One step at a time, I’m not going anywhere.”

Nevada sniffed and pushed away, rolling onto his back. “Course not, you live here.”

“You don’t have to go back—”

“You talk too much,” Nevada cut in roughly. “It’s the middle of the night.” He looked sideways at Caractacus.

“Sure, alright,” Caractacus answered. He settled onto his back beside Nevada. He was close enough for Nevada to still feel his warmth, but their bodies weren’t touching. “Goodnight, Nevada,” he said on a yawn even though it was well past midnight.

Nevada studied the other man’s profile in the dimness. “You snore, you know,” he said.

Caractacus huffed softly without opening his eyes. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

“Lucky I’m used to the cat.”

Caractacus smiled; Nevada could barely see the curve of his lips, but he could hear the smile in the man’s voice: “Hm, she does have a loud purr. I’m sure you missed her.” He paused, and sounded half-asleep when he added: “She can sleep here if you want.”

“Let her stay with the girl,” Nevada muttered. Caractacus’s slow and even breaths were soothing, and Nevada could feel himself relaxing beside him. “ _Traidora_ ,” he added.

Caractacus made another small sound of amusement and rolled toward Nevada. He didn’t reach out, but his knee poked gently against Nevada’s thigh and his breath was warm against Nevada’s arm. Caractacus had one hand under his cheek and the other on the bed between himself and Nevada.

In less than a minute, Nevada knew that Caractacus was asleep. Nevada listened to his soft snores for another minute, staring up at the ceiling. He shifted himself as carefully as possible, inching closer to Caractacus until the other man’s fingers were below Nevada’s ribs, and then he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Caractacus, still sleeping, lifted his arm and reached out, settling his hand onto Nevada’s chest. Nevada closed his eyes, let out a breath, and sank down to meet the darkness.

* * *

When he woke he was curled around Caractacus, clinging to him. No bad dreams followed him up into the sunlight, and when he opened his eyes he felt relaxed, refreshed. Safe. The feeling was so foreign that the very pleasantness of the sensation put him on edge and he tensed, blinking the room into focus.

“Morning,” Caractacus said, and although his voice was still a little rough from sleep, Nevada knew instantly that the other man had been awake for some time. Just lying there, watching Nevada sleep. Watching _over_ him, keeping him safe.

Nevada felt a flush of embarrassment as he realized how he’d wrapped himself around Caractacus in his sleep. “Don’t you gotta work?” he asked gruffly, trying to disentangle himself as casually as possible.

“Yeah, I was about to wake you,” Caractacus said. “I won’t be late. I’ll make the kids’ breakfast and they’ll get their own lunch. I’ll be back for—”

“Kids?” Nevada said.

Caractacus raised his eyebrows. “Yes. My children?”

“Don’t they…Won’t they go somewhere…?”

“It’s Sunday. There’s no school—”

“But like a babysitter or something?”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t bother you. I’ll speak to them.”

“I don’t know that I’ll be here anyway,” Nevada said.

Caractacus rolled away from him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I hope you’ll stay,” he said as he got to his feet. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Can you cook?”

Caractacus laughed, looking back as he stretched. “Not well,” he admitted. “Actually Jemima’s a better cook than I am but that shouldn’t be her responsibility.” He paused, and Nevada could see the wistfulness clouding the other man’s eyes. Then Caractacus seemed to shake the feeling off. Flashing Nevada a smile, he added, “But I can handle a decent meal. And you can help yourself to anything in the house before I get home, the kids can show you where things are if you need help.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nevada said.

“Hmm.” Caractacus stood beside the bed, searching Nevada’s face. He smiled again. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly. He saw Nevada’s discomfort and took mercy on him, turning away to head toward the bathroom. “Get some rest, you’re safe here,” he added without looking back.


End file.
